growing in the goo

I was supposed to pick up E at the airport tonight—her flight was scheduled to arrive at 1:15 a.m. In preparation for this late night voyage, I drank two "grande" iced green teas, and three delightful glasses of Pepsi.

Well, she called me around 8 p.m. to let me know that her flight was canceled due to tornadoes. While quite pleased that I wouldn't have to drive to BWI, now I'm suffering the consequences of infusing my veins with caffeine. Sleep....sleeep....need sleep.

I was kind of tossing and turning and drifting in and out of paranoid mouse dreams (update: this evening we caught the one that was making a mockery of us in the living room + kitchen), when I heard these voices coming from outside. It sounded like some drunk girls stumbling back from the bar, which is totally fine by me...I just wanted them to keep it down a notch. And I heard honking, which is obnoxious, and didn't seem to fit with the scene. And giggling that kept going on.

So, channeling my inner old lady, I crept to the window, and parted the cheap-o blinds. Although I didn't have my glasses on, the obnoxious teenage girls looked...smaller than I expected. Like, little kid-like. I pressed my face closer to the screen, and confirmed that the culprits were definitely prepubescent boys.

The ring leader, the one who sounds like a drunk teenage girl (hardy har har, punk. take that.), stopped at a car, and did something. And then he walked a bit further, and did something else to another car.

This was ridiculous. I couldn't tell what he was doing (no sounds of broken glass, so that's a plus), but I raised my melodious voice in protest nonetheless. I shouted, "HEY! KNOCK IT OFF!"—the two little henchmen scattered, but the ringleader cackled, and according to C-note, who came into my bedroom a moment later, said "no!"

C-note has to get up at 5:30. C-note, therefore, means business. And since I'm all about helping the oppressed and whatnot, I called the guardhouse and ordered the troops to descend upon our little neck of the woods.

I don't know if the people got the perps—well, they probably didn't, because I saw one guard guy wandering around the parking lot in completely the wrong place—but I'm glad that I aided and abetted justice/tattled. Clearly these kids aren't being tattled on enough.

In my caffeine-addled mind, I'm tempted to go down to one of the cars that they messed with, but I don't want to get framed with the crime. Or something. Maybe if I get up early enough tomorrow, I'll casually stroll by and check it out...